


One Word Prompt Ficlets 1

by Kitsune_XIII, pawstepsinthesnow



Series: Fire Emblem Drabbles [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Depersonalization, Drabbles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Headcanon, M/M, Mental Health Stuff, Multi, Virion!Inigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7643902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsune_XIII/pseuds/Kitsune_XIII, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pawstepsinthesnow/pseuds/pawstepsinthesnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of Fire Emblem based drabbles from one-word prompts. Based heavily on headcanons and a heavily altered AU of the Awakening-Fates universe that includes things like the Holy Blood from Genealogy, but most of that doesn't come into play here. There are OCs. One of the drabbles focuses on one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Word Prompt Ficlets 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be part of a series of these as I finish the word sets my friends gave me.  
> Please keep an open mind to crack-ships.
> 
> These drabbles are not chronological.

**Cloud** \-  Mother said that they used to watch clouds. That they would call out the shapes- from rabbits to women to dragons. But when the Fell Dragon rose, they’d stopped. Now Inigo sat on the roof, his fingers laced with those of the Plegian girl beside him, their eyes on the black clouds and crimson sky. He couldn’t pick out any appealing shapes in the sky, but when she scooted closer to him and pressed herself against his side and rested her head on his shoulder he decided he didn’t need to. Their lips met under the crimson sky as an obsidian cloud blocked out the sun.

 

**Chirp -** The shrill sound that pierced his ears seemed hardwired to Virion’s hand. Unthinkingly, he let his left hand fall from his desk and reached blindly through the space until silk-smooth scales touched his fingers. A smile touched his tired face, and he leaned back in his chair and pushed himself away from his work to look down at the source of the shrill sound. Red eyes peered up at him pleadingly, and tiny claws hooked into his pant legs as another chirp split the air. “Hello, my dear.” he greeted, reaching down to support the dragon’s tiny chest with his hand and lift her into the air. A gleeful, excited sound followed, and his precious daughter flailed her clumsy legs and fluttered her tiny, underdeveloped wings. She stilled only once her hind feet touched his thigh. Not a moment later her miniscule weight left his hand, curled in his lap with her head and tail each on a thigh and those tiny wings pressed against her body. Virion purred at her, scratched bridge of her tiny muzzle, and settled back into his work.

 

**Soil** \-  The earth was caked into Inigo’s every pore. His back ached and the sour-sharp scent of sweat made his nose burn. Wet heat and a plume of steam wrapped around him, and he breathed in the almost metallic taste of the hot spring as he settled on the heated stone on the bottom. His fingers felt raw, and his feet burned with exhaustion and he was fairly certain that if he was alone here for too long, he’d fall asleep and possibly drown. But he didn’t regret a single back-breaking moment of the day. Let Orochi complain about him spending the day out in the fields with Mozu. The little sprite’s exuberant smile as he helped her plant her trees made his effort more than worth the cold shoulder his fiance would give him tonight. And if bringing that sort of smile to another person’s lips meant he had to tear into the moist soil under the grass in the fields with his bare hands, and put up with a night or two of his fiance’s almost feline jealousy then so be it. He’d make it up to her later. After he’d worked the dirt out from under his skin.

 

**Star** \-  Inigo slammed violently back into his own body as though Laurent had cast Elthunder on him. The world jerked into harsh focus and his head swam from the sudden awareness of the hunger and thirst clawing at his throat and the throbbing ache in his chest. Gasping for breath, he stumbled his way out of the wagon and into the cool and crisp air of the night. Everyone seemed to be asleep save for the lone knight at the fire. Brown eyes locked on with his- old and tired and questioning. Inigo looked away, unable to hold Frederick’s gaze. The fire crackled cheerfully, demanding more wood to burn. Wordlessly, Frederick offered him a waterskin, and wordlessly, he accepted it and guzzled down half the contents. He guessed from the agonizing burn on his dry throat that it was alcoholic in nature. For once, he didn’t care. Capping the skin and handing it back to the knight, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and dropped onto one of the sitting logs someone had pulled up near the fire. “Thanks.” Inigo croaked out. The knight only grunted in reply. Taking a few deep breaths, the young duke looked to the sky. Almost immediately his eyes landed on a particularly bright star blazing from near the new moon. A pale green gleam against the near-black of the crimson sky. The ache in his chest deepened, and he was entirely too aware of his face contorting itself, of his throat swelling. He hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face between them. If the dead truly became stars, then it was entirely too fitting that she would become the brightest of them all.

 

**Glimmer -** White silk and pink hair glimmered in the moonlight. Ribbons flowed around her in a vibrant rainbow display. Red-wine watched her dance from a high-up window, fascinated by the play of silver and shadow. He should look away, she was dancing alone for a reason and Virion knew that. But the play of light and the shimmering ribbons and the contortions of her dance kept drawing his eye and his attention as a moth was drawn to flame. If only she could believe in how beautiful she was.

 

 **Breeze** \-  Kiera’s hair waved about her face as the earth rose up to meet her. Her arms and legs spread wide as the square patches of greens and browns and golds took on more distinct shapes. The wind screamed in her ears, and she closed her eyes- taking a deep breath of the skies. There was movement in front of her, and she reached out to close her hand on a saddle horn. She settled into the saddle as Sigurd rose back into the air, green wings catching on a gale- and carrying her into a sweet smelling breeze.

 

**Grow -** Sun-kissed fingers closed on the blue cape and he buried his nose in the cloth. Wheat-fields and honey wrapped around him, and a deep laugh emanated from the warm body in front of him. “Robin, what are you doing back there?” purple eyes rose to meet blue, and his heart fluttered. Smiling at his love from behind the cape, he nuzzled into the silk-soft cotton, closed his eyes, and inhaled that lovely, comforting scent. Chrom sighed, and his right hand passed through Robin’s hair as he chuckled again. “You know it’s your own fault you missed me, right? I’m still not convinced you didn’t marry those maps when I wasn’t looking.”

“If I’d married the maps, they’d be much stickier and harder to unroll.” Robin teased, letting go of Chrom’s cape just to cling to his left arm instead, fingers tracing down along the muscle tone that still lingered in his husband’s bicep.

“Those are things I really don’t need to think about.” Chrom teased right back, and that rich laughter filled the small space between them yet again. And as always, the sound and Chrom’s voice and his scent and the gentle easiness between them, made the mage’s heart swell and his love for the prince grow.

 

**Chill** \-  “Shit!” Inigo cursed as yet another frigid rat darted across his lap, and he slammed his thighs against the edge of his desk in an attempt to squash the rodent. It slipped through the  wood as if it weren’t there. He released a frustrated sigh and glared at the now-spilled ink spreading across the desk-top and the report he’d been writing. His eyes narrowed and he glared back over his shoulder. As expected, Orochi had the little spirit rat in her lap and was stroking its head, smirking at him.

“Are you going to sit there looking glum all night?” she asked, tilting her head to the left and cocking her shoulder at him. “C’mon Lazwald, it’s late, come to bed. I’m cold.” Frustration rose in his chest like bile and he pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to control his temper as he turned his back on her once more.

“...If you’d stop sending that rat to scare me out of my wits, my dove, I’d have finished hours ago. As is, now I have to clean my desk of the ink spill, and start the report over again. Thank you so  _ very _ much. As if I wasn’t in enough hot water with Lord Xander.” He didn’t need to see her to know she was pouting at him.

“Maybe you just need to chill out and take some time for us instead for a bit?” she tried, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, frustrated as he was- he knew she was right. Groaning, pushing himself away from the desk, he grabbed an old towel and tossed it over the ink-puddle. He’d clean it properly later- or maybe beg Flora or Felicia to do it. Orochi was right- he needed some time to just… chill.

 

**Bloom** \-  Color and sound exploded above the army, and Severa watched with only slightly less wonder than the others around her. She’d seen it before, even if only once. But somehow, seeing it away from home, away from Laurent and Miriel’s magic and science… Some of the awe was replaced with a deep stab of homesickness. As Owain cheered and made a scene and Adelaide laughed at his antics, Severa found herself missing a particular redheaded knight from home. As flowers of fire bloomed above the lake, she slipped away from the gathered crowd and back to her tent. Sitting on the edge of her sleeping mat, she pulled a worn out old novel from her bag and opened it to the center-fold. There, pressed delicately between the pages, rested a violet. Pressed and preserved in full bloom. A reminder of the one who waited for her back home.

 

**Breathe -** Steady, flowing. Harsh and ragged. His entire body trembling as he tried to focus. His head between his knees, nails scratching at the back of his shoulders as he gasped. Focus. Remind himself he wasn’t suffocating on the tight swelling in his throat. On the taste of bile. He forced himself to steady his breathing again- only for another harsh sob to drag it back to harsh and throat-scorchingly ragged. He was halfway aware of the hands on his shoulders, of the pert breasts against his back. Of a sweet voice telling him everything would be okay, asking him what was wrong.

But he couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe. Every thought burned and he saw corpses every time he blinked. Oriana’s ripped apart, Calista a bloody eviscerated heap in his sister’s arms…

And his precious blossom, the sneaky little viper currently cooing in his ears- with her body mangled in Grima’s maw. His nails bit deeper into his skin and he felt Orochi press closer for a moment, then pull away. She deserved so much more than a broken man like him.


End file.
